We All Fall Down
by akatrixie
Summary: Sequel to Before They Fall.  Short chapters on the death of each tribute in the 75th Hunger Games, in their point of view.  Reviews would be lovely!
1. Mags, District 4

A/N- Hello readers, new and old! I'm akatrixie. This is about 300 words about each character's death from the 75th Hunger Games. If anybody has any requests, I will gladly write them sooner. However, I don't want to be stuck with all bloodbath tributes to write at the end. So I might mix up the order a bit. Thanks to mystic night92 for your ideas and encouragement. Thank you for clicking on this, and please please please review!

Disclaimer- Well, I own my bloodbaths, I suppose. But not the rest of the amazing Hunger Games Universe.

**Mags, District 4**

Katniss is trying her hardest. But the fog is faster. It swirls in tendrils and waves, overtaking bodies until there is nothing but pain.

She tries to curl up, to not weigh anything at all. So Katniss will not have to work too hard.

But it doesn't work. Katniss falls down, body twisting and turning in ways that should not be possible.

She laboriously hoists herself up and picks up Mags again. They run, trying to catch up with Finnick and Peeta. She can't fall back from Finnick.

She had known Finnick ever since he was 14. He had charmed her from the first second. She knew she could keep him alive.

After his Games, they had sat on the pier and fished. He had talked about his stalkers, his family, his life. And she had talked back. It had been right before her stroke.

She missed being understood. She had been eloquent. The only thing people knew her for now was her talent with fishhooks.

She can feel the spasms in Katniss's arms. She cannot hold her much longer.

And she falls a second time. The mist is everywhere now, perforating and poisoning her entire body.

But still Katniss valiantly struggles onward.

It is just too strong. Katniss falls a third time. Mags knows she must go.

"It's no use. Can you take them both?"

Katniss is concerned for Mags's life. Mags is honored.

"No. I can't carry them both. My arms aren't working. I'm sorry, Mags. I can't do it."

She does not want to leave Finnick. He will be alone.

But then again, he won't. There will be a revolution. The world will change.

She gets up and kisses him. It is her way of saying goodbye.

The fog is searing as she falls.

The world will change. Panem will change. She won't be there to see it.


	2. Dahla, District 10

A/N- This one is inspired by a creepy thought I had when I reread the book. You never know what happens to the bloodbaths, so I figured I could take a few creative liberties with Dahla. Reviews would be positively wonderful. :)

**Dahla Brody, District 10**

And the games have begun again.

She shouldn't be surprised. They have had it out for her forever.

Her first games were in wide pastures. The animals were deadly, but she knew her way around.

She knew she could win.

But Dahla cannot do anything in the water-filled arena. She envies Mags and Finnick.

It begins to spin. She thought she was free. She thought she was gone.

But it's the Hunger Games. They are never truly gone. They stay with you, hiding just in the corner of your mind. Waiting to spring back at you with full force.

And now she must dive off of the plate.

She has never really swum before, but she figures now is as good a time as any to learn.

Within a few seconds, she is gasping and flailing. Screaming and shuddering and flapping.

It's a good thing there isn't anyone in the spokes near Dahla. They could kill her easily.

Fire Girl has already reached the beach. How did she learn to swim? There isn't water in the coal mines, is there? Maybe District 12 is textiles. She can't remember anymore.

Panic has overtaken her.

Don't people sink in water? Dahla doesn't seem to be. In fact…

Somehow, she stays perfectly still. And she doesn't go under.

Dahla gives a sigh of relief. She is too numb to move, so she just observes the commotion on the beach. The District 1 and 2 Careers obviously made their usual alliance. They have gotten the whole Cornucopia.

_Where are Katniss and Peeta?_

They've gone. Dahla supposes she should start swimming. She hesitantly moves an arm, and then another. She moves forward a bit.

Something grabs her by the leg and pulls her under. She has no time to think. Her screams cannot be heard.

The waters hide something. Something best left dark and undisturbed.


	3. Crimson, District 6

A/N- Ok, I'm really nervous for you guys to read this chapter. I'm actually pretty scared. I've always loved the morphlings, and I hope I did him justice. I have no way of knowing how this is, so review and tell me. Please? Thanks. I hope it's ok...

And as for the last chapter, i don't really know what it was. Kinda random thought.

Disclaimer- Suzanne Collins owns.

**Crimson Carson, District 6**

He does not care; for the light is coming in now, light to color of the sky at home where all you do is run and run and the colors whirl up around you and you see everything.

The colors sometimes fade, and so he needs it. He cannot live without it. He shakes in fear.

There are some memories, deep within his brain, that he knows this is like.

That year's color had been red. Red. Crimson, really, like his name.

Like all the blood that had swirled around him until nothing was left except the color and the noise.

Noise

Noise

Noise

Morphling-that was what he needed.

The colors would come back and he could live in beauty.

For a little while

Why did they all go away? The water was sparkling like eyes and the sky on the days where the breeze wafted in through the holes in the factory walls and as a boy he would stand and sigh in the little bit of happiness.

Marji had given him his first injection when he had won. Her eyes were dark heather almost the color of the water in his arena.

It had helped him so much. For the first time, all he saw was the colors.

Crimson jumped into the water and began to swim. He was sliding along the cold blueness.

They had agreed to help the Fire girl. He saw her costume and admired all the beautiful shades.

They were going to save her and stoke a rebellion, a fire that would consume Panem in flames of auburn and sun and all the shades of leaves in the fall.

He has reached the beach, making small noises in the back of his throat. He had to swim to win his Games.

He had tried to forget.

But he cannot forget now. He shakes his head, he can see Cashmere slowly sneaking up behind where Fire Girl has disappeared.

No.

She won't die. He runs up to Cashmere shrieking and waving his arms and he knows he must stop her because the Flaming Couple need to survive and they need to stop the Capitol.

And Cashmere is turning and she throws something.

The color for this year?

Black.


	4. Wiress, District 3

A/N- Well, due to popular demand (actually only 3 people...lol), Wiress is next! I don't think I got her quite right. I would have posted it yesterday, but kept reworking it...anyway, you can review and tell me if I've totally messed up. Or if you like it. If there are any more requests, review. Or if you are bored, review. (Does anyone get the underlying theme of, "Review, please"?) Thank you all so much for reading.

Disclaimer- No, your HG books do not say my name on them, no matter how amazing that would be.

**Wiress, District 3**

_Hickory dickory dock_

_The mouse ran up the clock_

_The clock struck one_

_The mouse ran down_

_Hickory dickory dock_

The wire is golden and shiny in the water, just like her tribute's hair last year.

She didn't have a chance, really. She was shy, delicate, unnoticeable. Wiress had seen remarkable ingenuity in her, though.

Ingenuity rarely keeps you alive.

She remembers that little girl, Pixa. She had died quickly, knife in her back. She loved beauty. Wiress hoped she died happy.

She stands up straight and tall, spotting the poisonous fog on the beach. "Two."

Katniss smiles. "Yes, look, Wiress is right. It's two o'clock and the fog has started."

Wiress smiles also, pleased. Katniss had understood her. She had understood that the arena was a clock.

_Hickory dickory dock_

_The mouse ran up the clock_

_The clock struck four_

_He hit the floor_

_Hickory dickory dock_

She can faintly hear them conversing about canaries. Wiress had been called a canary. She knew things. They just sort of came to her.

She knew that when the people came to her and Beetee, asking about helping the rebellion, it was the right thing to do. She knew that a signal would be sent to them about the rescue. It would come soon, in one shape or form.

The wire also looks like golden thread. She smiles yet again, thinking of the machine she was creating back in 3. She had been sitting, working at it one day…

No. She would not think of the people dead in the rebellion.

She tries to think of how happy the factory workers in 8 will be to have it. But it only reminds her of the rebellion in 8.

Everywhere she turns, there's war.

But that was why they were rebelling. To stop the internal wars among people.

At the moment she sings the last note, the knife cuts her throat.

The canary had finished its song.


	5. Graham, District 10

A/N-Hello, lovely readers! Have I told you how much I loved your reviews? Well, I'll tell you again. A LOT! This chapter...well, it's weird. If any of you have read Before They Fall, one of the weirdest deaths was the crippled boy, Komondor. This guy would've been his mentor, right? So, I kinda made it tie in a lot. Tell me what you think. :)

Disclaimer-The Hunger Games is Suzanne Collins's. I am akatrixie. Seeing an underlying theme here?

**Graham Baker, District 10**

He is creeping through the all-too-quiet jungle, trying not to think of Komondor. That boy was set up, wasn't he? It was obviously that fox-looking girl. She had to have set the trap.

He has taken precautions to ensure that no human saboteur can attack his camp. There are carefully placed tranquilizers around his camp. It was like last year. The landmine year.

Graham wonders if nobody has figured out the secret to the weapons yet. There was each weapon that the people had won the games with. Of course, there were all the standards. But Graham had won his games with poisons and tranquilizers.

How often do you see livestock tranquilizers in the list of weapons for the Hunger Games?

Not often.

Mace, bow and arrow, wire, grenade, knife, even a lightsaber-like sword. All there.

Graham had taught Komondor all he knew about using substances to win. Aside from his foot, Komondor was sneaky, sly, and likable enough to win.

Until the trap had been set up.

Graham couldn't consider the idea that the poison wasn't a trap.

That it was an accident.

It couldn't have been an accident.

Could it?

To distract himself, Graham began rifling through his stock of food to see what he had left.

Barely anything.

He was about to start hunting for those weird tree-animals when a set of roars pierced his ears.

And there they were: 2 giant, hulking, gorilla mutts. Graham had never had to worry about wild animals before.

He yelped and tripped backwards, landing hard on his back. The gorillas were beautiful colors—azure and moonlight silver. It was enough to make him hesitate.

And they began to tear him apart.

Their large, greedy hands were so ruthless that Graham could form no conscious thoughts. They ripped, grabbed, and bit.

The pain was everywhere.

He should have expected it.

He was always better with people than animals.


	6. Cecilia, District 8

A/N- So...lots of requests. Blight, Seeder, and District 5. I'll get those done as soon as I can. Thank you for reading! XD

Disclaimer- Not mine.

**Cecilia, District 8**

And here it goes again. Time ticking away on a clock, tick tock, tick tock.

This wasn't like her arena. The Gamemakers had been bored that year. It had been a giant tree. The best supplies seemed to be at the top of the tree.

Only the ones who ventured underneath it found what was important.

It had been her and one other girl, Barbara. But Barbara was shot. Did Barbara know that Cecilia cared? She should.

She had been used to being underground. That was how the textile factories worked. Little light. Just work.

And she wanted to change that! She wanted to change it for her children.

The three of them, Jasper and Chloe and Barbara. Little, little Barbara, her ally's namesake. They didn't understand the Games. They couldn't. Not yet.

She tried not to shudder as her mental clock ticked away the time she has left.

She didn't want to be a sacrifice for the rebellion. But really, she had no choice. It was the only way to make things better.

And just now the panic kicks in, for Cecilia realizes she never learned to swim.

She doesn't have a choice. She jumps.

The water comes as a stinging slap to Cecilia, and is suddenly submerged. The water is beautiful, in a strange, deadly way. She pushes herself back to the surface.

And she takes a hesitant stroke forward, and then another. _For Barbara. For Barbara and Barbara and Chloe and Jasper._

The Cornucopia seems miles away, but she makes it. Stroke by tiny stroke. She is thankful to put her feet on ground again.

And she enters the fight. Poor old Woof is nowhere to be seen. He was the closest person to her, beside her husband. And he must be gone.

She has to go back. She has to win. She is determined, even as she is speared. Just as Barbara was.

She stumbles. Does she realize it is over? No.

She goes on.


	7. Seeder, District 11

A/N- Hello! :) Seeder today. I have to say, this one made me sad. Next comes Blight, and then District 5. I would love you forever if you reviewed. And again, if there are any requests, let me know. I am possibly doing another story like this after this is done, but with characters like the man shot in D11, Annie's district partner in her games, Bonnie's husband, Finnick...etc. Thoughts?

Disclaimer- If I owned the Hunger Games, Landmine boy would have won. Just sayin'.

**Seeder, District 11**

Thank goodness Mags was on her section of the wheel. She had grown to really love Mags. She had gotten to know all of the victors, almost. That wasn't to say they all liked her, but still…

Seeder gently tucks her hair behind her ears. Is anyone back in 11 watching? They certainly wouldn't be doing so willingly.

She just plasters a smile on her face for the crowd.

The gong is hit and Seeder rushes back in time 39 years. The girl tributes had been required to wear a flower in their hair. A flower? Ridiculous. They just were ripped to shreds in the battle.

Seeder's flower had been a violet.

The water hits her like a stiff sheet, spread out on a clothesline to dry in her own backyard. Except with it came no clean smell, no cushion to fall backwards on.

The water was wavy and rushing, filling her ears with the muted sounds of limbs straining to the shore.

As Seeder slowly works her way up to the surface, she turns and sees a limp figure being dragged down to the deep.

She lets out a little scream and swims the rest of the way up. At the surface, she lets out a huge sigh of relief and gulps in air (almost at the same time, which causes her to choke).

Seeder remembers her first time swimming, as a girl in a small hole behind the fields.

Why can't she just be happy like she was?

After what seems like a year, Seeder can feel the sand beneath her feet.

She searches for somewhere, anywhere, that she can hide and observe in. Her job was to protect Katniss, Peeta, and the rest of that alliance aiming to overthrow the Capitol, but from a distance.

She saw nowhere to hide.

Combat had never been Seeder's strong suit. She had won by knowing food. And knowing where to hide.

So when a younger, stronger female comes running at Seeder, she is pessimistic of the outcome.

She grabs a small sword in the sand next to her, and they begin to fight. It's funny how when you really need to do something, you can't.

She sticks Seeder in the ribs with a dagger. Seeder doesn't know her name. District 5, maybe?

Her eyes are fierce, but they at least show a little remorse when Seeder slips away.


	8. Blight, District 7

A/N- And hello again, my readers! :) District 5 is next! Thank you all for being wonderfully amazing and reviewing. Ugh, I used to update once a day...I'll try to get back to that, I promise. Love you all.

Disclaimer-...can't say it enough, not mine...

**Blight, District 7**

He is always on edge by Johanna. She can't really be trusted.

Truly, Blight can't see why she needs him. He always keeps a safe distance, literally and figuratively. It's harder to get hurt that way.

Blight likes to know everything definitively. He likes answers. He likes facts proven true.

The dry forest floor crackles loudly. Too loudly. They had barely covered any ground. It's a good thing they figured out where the water was. Luckily the branch broke. They saw the water.

Something red lands with a tiny _plip _on Blight's shoulder. Even though any form of liquid should have cooled him off a bit, the spot of red is warm.

Blood.

All logical thought is gone from his brain, and Blight screams. More drops fall, covering the still Beetee in red rivulets.

Johanna is dragging Wiress and Beetee. Why did they have District 3, anyway? Was it because they were in on the rebellion plan? It must be.

Blight thinks he should help, but he is frozen.

A bit of blood makes its way to his mouth. Hiding in a forest in his Games, he had stayed sane by biting his cheek. The pain kept him there. Kept him alive.

He begins to move.

The underbrush crackles as Blight helps hold Beetee. They run, but he doesn't know to where. Johanna has a plan.

Right?

The land is slick with blood. Is it real? Is it of people? Of his District? Of his family? Panic has suppressed any reasonable thought.

There is so much liquid on his body that Blight can't hold on any more.

"Blight? Blight!"

Johanna's voice is so shrill that Blight can't help running towards it. He stumbles, bumping into a few trees. It is red everywhere.

Blight used to be unstoppable when he ran. He had no way of knowing the forcefield was there.

He used to be unstoppable.


	9. Caden, District 5

A/N- D: I'm so sorry, peoples! Choir has made my life really hectic. I haven't updated in forver! Hopefully, this chapter is ok. I am still taking suggestions. Thank you all so much for reading this. I would love you to the moon and back if you reviewed.

Disclaimer- THG would be nowhere near as awesome as it is if I owned it.

**Caden Dryad, District 5**

His head is pounding, his throat is dry, he can barely stand straight. Last night didn't seem like too much of a mistake while it happened. Caden rubs his eyes, desperate to be rid of his hangover.

What did he say?

"_Well it's not like any of us are going to come back from these Games!" Laughter. "What do you say we forget it all? I've got drinks for everyone!" Loud, rowdy cheering._

As Caden shielded his eyes from the sparkling blue water, he began to feel faint. The world was all of a sudden too _colorful_. And too _loud_.

It wasn't like the feeling wasn't familiar.

He had known it since his Victory Tour.

And the gong was sounding, and he was performing a beautifully executed dive from the plate. How was he doing that? How did he remember swimming?

_District 4 had been a bad place for him. The victors, smiling, offering him bottles. In a way, it had destroyed him._

_In a way, it had liberated him._

His body was flailing, twisting, cutting through the water. He just wanted to be on land again.

And the land inched closer…closer…closer…

Caden wanted to scream in frustration. He wasn't getting anywhere!

He rested for a moment, treading. His head was spinning in loopy circles, and the only thing he saw was the blinding blue.

Using some sort of inhuman strength, he swam on.

A few blurry figures were moving around on the beach, scouring the Cornucopia. Caden saw his sword—the jagged, feet long blade menacing and wicked.

_I won my Games with that, _he remembers.

As his feet touch the shore, Caden runs towards the sword. With it, he has a chance. He half expects somebody to begin to fight him.

Not a person. A trident, a gigantic silver one.

Finnick's weapon impales him in the chest. Caden's eyes blink once, twice, and then close. The blinding colors are gone.


	10. Cashmere, District 1

A/N- D: And I update late again! I'm so sorry, guys. I don't really like this chapter, I don't think that careers are too interesting in general. But after her is Chaff. He's cool. Thank you for reading, and please review! Love you.

Disclaimer- Hell yeah I own the Hunger Games! (silence)...no, not really...

**Cashmere, District 1**

"And ten to eleven is the wave," adds Katniss. They're all off planning their little plan of the arena. Well, they won't be happy for much longer.

Cashmere gives a silent breaststroke, cutting cleanly through the water. Gloss is heading right for Wiress, an easy target. She is glad she got the real challenge, the real group of contenders.

She has been restless for someone real to kill, like her Games. She always had something to prove, Gloss being the stronger, older one. It wasn't fair.

She needed to prove she could do it better.

"Did you notice anything unusual in the others? I guess they could hold anything."

Cashmere feels a kind of excitement in the pit of her stomach, readying her to murder.

The water is cool on Cashmere's burning skin. She cannot stand the sunburn. For both the lack of comfort and because she is used to looking beautiful.

It has become her shield.

"I'm going to mark the ones where we know the Gamemakers' weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we'll stay clear of those," says Peeta.

Are they really writing on a _leaf_? Where were their sponsers?

Cashmere wants to say that her contempt for District 12 is purely for this competition. But because precious Katniss killed her tributes, she has something to get back at them for. That really wasn't fair, either.

Gloss is almost to Wiress. Is she singing? District 3 really is full of nut jobs.

They don't suspect a thing.

And Gloss slits her throat.

Cashmere barely has a moment to sigh in relief, because The Girl on Fire whips up her bow and shoots Gloss in the head.

Cashmere has never really felt any sort of love for her brother, but Katniss has gone too far. She has destroyed too much.

She raises her sword to fight. Because she never goes down without a fight. So it really isn't fair that Johanna throws the axe before she can take a swing.

But since when is life fair?


	11. Chaff, District 11

A/N-...I've been MIA for like, forever. I'm so sorry. I know a bunch of people requested Chaff, so here he is. I hope it lives up to your expectations. reviews are totally amazing.

There are soooooo many names that begin with C in these Games...it's weird

Disclaimer-I don't own it, never haven, never will.

**Chaff, District 11**

It isn't funny anymore.

Somehow, he managed to keep smiling and joking all through his Games. As clichéd as it is, laughter is his defense mechanism.

He supposes all people have them. Some are just more prominent. He has to keep smiling. He doesn't know what will happen if he stops.

So why is it so hard right now?

From his vantage point, he can see that Katniss is lying on the ground moaning from the wound Johanna had given her…he had never liked that part of the plan. Getting out the tracker was necessary—but he still didn't like it.

And the Careers he was supposed to be attacking at that very moment came rushing down the path.

"She's as good as dead! Come on, Enobaria!"

And…action! Chaff swoops down from his ledge, brandishing his dagger sword. This is one of the only times he wishes he had his hand back.

"I've got Chaff, you go find the others!" Brutus yells as he halts. She nods and continues to run.

Brutus and his scythe are deadly. Chaff prepares for the worst.

It promises to be a long and bloody fight, and the 2 victors do not disappoint. Their lives are being put to the final test.

Yet Chaff keeps that smile (slightly insane now) on his face.

Brutus's scythe is whirling, closing in on Chaff, finally leaving a gash in his chest. Brutus gives his own cocky smile and skitters away.

Chaff is bleeding, and he is disgusted. He has always had problems with blood which is why his mentor had given up on him.

Chaff had entered the arena with only the clothes on his back and a promise to go home.

And he had gone home.

He smiles at the irony of the whole damn situation.

He dies with a smile on his face.


	12. Thaisa, District 9

A/N- Hi. Gloss coming up next. My girl today is just...well, see for yourself. Last chapter, I totally forgot chaff was missing a hand...thanks so much to those of you who pointed that out... I edited it a bit. Reviews are awesome.

Disclaimer- And yet again, I do not own the Hunger Games

**Thaisa White, District 9**

Thaisa shudders, thinking of how the salt water will sting her fresh cuts. They form straight, red rows down her arms and legs. If there are any predators in the water, they were sure to smell the blood.

Damn.

It's not like she likes cutting herself. She can't help it.

But today she sincerely regrets it. There were sure to be mutts that would sense the blood and rip her to pieces.

So she slaps a smile on her face and 'cheerily' accepts her fate.

Thaisa notices that Raphi, her district partner, is also in her little section of the circle. That's good. He was her mentor. He won't kill her. She is left to the mutts that she wasn't even quite sure existed.

And the loud gong brings them all into the water. Thaisa can't really swim, so she waves her arms and legs around, trying to stop the burn in her slashes. The happy façade is gone.

It's so much easier to be sad, withdrawn. You are never disappointed. Thaisa can spend her life in solitude, taking out her sorrows on her own body.

She doesn't want to hurt anyone anymore.

Thaisa came home changed from the arena. Nobody could quite understand why the Games affected her so much.

The arena had been just perfect for her, full of electricity and circuits and wires. She avoided most of the combat.

But she was never really the same. She didn't care about anything. But now, Thaisa finds it ironic that she misses her home. And she can never go back and show the people she loved.

Shocked by her moment of sentimentality, she stops struggling and holds still. Which brings on another round of agony on her cut limbs.

A tight grip closes around her neck. It's the mutts; they've come. She can feel the slippery fins on her legs, the smooth scales on the open bits of skin.

Her eyes roll backwards and she makes a throaty groan in a futile attempt to breathe.

"I told myself it was gonna be a mutt! I was right," she gasps with her last bit of air. "For once, I was right."


	13. Gloss, District 1

A/N- Ok, Gloss is majorly creepy...it was hard to write. I'd appreciate feedback. I always do. Thank you so much for reading, I love you all. :D

Disclaimer- The Hunger Games is not mine. Unfortunately.

**Gloss, District 1**

These pitiful little tributes. He can feel it, like he did last time. Everything is like last time. The adrenaline rush, the wind in his hair, the knife in his hand. He can feel it.

They will all fall.

By his hand, of course. There is a natural order to things. Gloss is on top of it all. The coyote of the food chain.

Who are you to call him conceited? You are only jealous. You wish you were like him.

He glides through the glass-like water with precision and perfection. He is ready, ready to draw the life out of these miserable District 3 excuses for life-forms.

And the rest of them. Even Finnick. He should have stayed faithful to the Careers.

Though Gloss must admit he has never really liked Finnick.

Not after he killed both of his tributes. Gloss hasn't forgiven him.

Gloss slides up closer, not really taking in the conversation on the beach. His mind is focused on one goal.

Death.

Gloss is almost there…he can almost reach her…

When the knife accidentally nicks his hand. Gloss lets out a silent curse and examines the blood now dripping down his arm.

Gloss has always marveled at the sight of blood. His strong legs tread so he can keep examining it.

But he cannot become distracted from hi goal, so gloss quickly washes his hand and then moves on.

Killing Volts is easy. A simple knife to the neck.

It's what comes after it that will be hard.

He draws himself up to full height, prepared to fight, to die.

Only the latter happens.


	14. Sybil, District 6

A/N- I'm almost done with this story. :( I think next will be Woof, possibly...I don't know. I like writing morphling POV. Love you all! :D

Disclaimer-I do not own.

**Sybil Manson, District 6**

_With my paint box at home, I can make every color imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby's skin. Or as deep as rhubarb._

Her mind is racing back, back, back to the shimmering springs that she had her childhood at. The spring she had played at to get away from the loud machinery and everything seemed positively magical.

_Green like spring grass. _

Green like the grass. Green like the leaves of the trees she was staring into.

_Blue that shimmers like ice on water. _

Like ocean.

_One time, I spent three days mixing paint until I found the right shade for sunlight on white fur. You see, I kept thinking it was yellow, but it was much more than that. _

She kept seeing the glint of the monkey's fur as it bit down into her chest. She didn't mind, really. She was saving Peeta. The boy of the colors.

_Layers of all sorts of colors. One by one. _

Wasn't everything like that? Full of colors you can't always see. Humans are mostly red and pink. You don't see that all the time you.

Unless you are in the Hunger Games.

_I haven't figured out a rainbow yet. They come so quickly and leave so soon. I never have time to capture them. Just a bit of blue here or purple there. _

She remembers her first rainbow. She imagines she sees one right now.

_And then they fade away. Back into the air._

She is glad the world is beautiful. Sometimes, you have to look for it, but it is always there. She raises her hand and draws a star on the Color Boy's cheek.

_Thank you. That looks beautiful._

She smiles. It is beautiful.

Everything is.


	15. Brutus, District 2

A/N- I dislike this chapter. Whatever. Only 3 people to go after this! Then I'll be taking a month long hiatus for ScriptFrenzy (anyone else doing it? It's like NaNoWriMo) Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer- I am just a lowly fan.

**Brutus, District 2**

There's this kind of sick pleasure in killing people. Brutus smiles as he leaves Chaff to die. He finds happiness in pain, in gore.

Are people even supposed to be like that? Animals in the wild are in constant competition. Why should humans be any different? On a cellular level, they are almost the same.

The idiotic blister on Brutus's hand is about to pop. The scythe has worn down into his hand, and Brutus feels like embedding the sharp blade into the nearest tree to take out his frustration.

He just needs to _kill_ something.

For the first time in his admittedly crazy life, Brutus admits how strange that sounds.

He can hear Katniss calling for someone. And Peeta responding. He's really close. Brutus gives one of his smirks and dashes behind a thick tree, waiting for Peeta to inevitably come lumbering towards him.

Their fight is whirling of weapons and glimmering silver. Brutus frowns in concentration. He's hard to kill.

Brutus wonders why. He's not particularly talented. At least, not trained like the Careers.

But as he glimpses Peeta's eyes, he realizes.

Peeta has something to fight for.

What does Brutus have to fight for?

Nothing.

That revelation makes him pause and think. Why does he keep fighting?

Unfortunately, Peeta takes advantage of his momentary uselessness and drives the sword into his chest.

With another strangled yell, Peeta runs off. Brutus is panicked. He is not supposed to die.

It's not supposed to happen.

Just in the corner of his clouding vision, Brutus can see Finnick and Enobaria. He hoists himself up to join them.

The blurriness is making it incredibly hard to run. Brutus's whole body is numb.

His legs are taking him god knows where, and suddenly he slams to the ground.

Well, he killed someone, all right. Himself.


	16. Raphi, District 9

A/N- I swear, the more of these I write, the creepier they get. Guys, this one...I don't even...ugh. It's scary. Psychotic. Anyway, review and tell me what you think. Only two more people to go! Y'all are amazing and I'll miss you all.

Disclaimer- *looks in the mirror* Nope, not Suzanna Collins.

**Raphi Lamson, District 9**

Was this really what was going to happen? Was he really going to have to kill Thaisa?

Why?

He had mentored her! He had helped her stay alive! And now, he was going to be her demise.

This was terrible.

She was inevitably going to die. And so was he, really. _Let's just get this over with._

He was already gearing up to for the kill. He planned is path. Taking out Thaisa, his maneuver onto the beach, the weapons he would take, his path into the woods. It was just like a puzzle, pieces to be assembled.

Step one. He jumps into the water. Probably not as precise as he would like. But the ends will justify the means.

Step two. Kill Thaisa. He can barely read water and his clothes are soaking, but he manages to swim up behind her and grab her by the neck. He can kill like this. He has killed like this before.

He feels the snap of his own remorse inside his brain just as she takes her last gasp. Something about being right.

Raphi gently releases her body and she floats away. He treads the water slowly mechanically.

The flicker of sadness into his brain has multiplied into a scream. Raphi's head twists with pain. His death toll is up to 8. Thaisa. Six kids in his Games. And a Capital surgeon. He hated those guys. They had tried to beautify him.

They could never really beautify him. For each person he killed, he became a bit more disfigured.

And he is now a monster.

His lumbering gait, his thick arms, his cold, calculating precision. Raphi hates to admit it, but it is true.

Wild, feral, mad. He bears his teeth, and gasps at how wrong it feels. And right.

He is still treading the water, feet and arms moving in a predictable pattern.

He can see Cashmere standing on the shore, he can see her draw her bow. He can see her shoot it.


	17. Woof, District 8

A/N-Okay, so I know this one is totally late. But to make up for it, the last chapter is done and will be posted tomorrow. It's kinda neat. :D Thanks to those of you who are amazing and review, favorite, and show your support for my writing. Without any further ado, enjoy...Woof!

Disclaimer- Nope.

**Woof, District 8**

What's this? The light's so bright it hurts his eyes. Woof can barely see.

It's the Hunger Games again. He hated last time. He can't believe he has to go again. Wasn't it just for teenagers? Woof can't really remember anymore.

Right next to him is the Girl on Fire. That's good. He was told to protect her. Cecilia and him had both agreed to, hadn't they? Yes, back on the train.

He stands there for a moment, admiring the sparkling blue view. Just then, he sees that the other victors have jumped off their plates.

Huh. The gong must have gone off. He just didn't hear it.

So Woof jumps into the water, doggedly following Katniss. He said he was going to protect her. Woof planned to stick to that promise.

She moves quickly, lightly through the water. Woof splashes and splutters, but he manages to keep her within a few yards.

_She has me. I'll protect her. We'll be okay._

Katniss reaches the shore, and begins talking to the Swimmer Man. Woof remembers meeting him on Finnick's own victory tour. He was a nice young man.

The water's gentle current prevents Woof from moving anywhere close to them. He tries to swim around, to go in at a different angle. The Cornucopia looks so bright and beautiful in the sun.

He drags himself up onto the beach. It appears Katniss has already gone. That's okay, though. He can admire the shiny metal all around him.

Woof touches a silver throwing star lovingly. It looked so innocent and beautiful in the sunlight. He picks it up and flings it, as a practice throw.

He can hear a faint moan, seemingly coming from far away. But as he turns around, he sees Enobaria is much closer than she sounds.

Her teeth are so shiny, just like the knife in her hand.

The panic only registers as the knife goes down and hits him across the shoulder. Woof is knocked back by the force of it. His blood drips from the wounds, staining the sand a deep, dark crimson.


	18. Ginna, District 5

A/N- And here we are guys, the final chapter! I'd like to thank all of you who have read, reviewed, favorited, alerted, and just lurked. I think I may be starting a story involving many of the other deaths in the series (not just limited to in the Games themselves) but because of ScriptFrenzy, that probably won't be happening until May. Thanks to you all again!

Disclaimer- I do not own The Hunger Games.

**Ginna Carter, District 5**

It's like the trees are talking. Like they are whispering, sizing her up, preparing to take a bite. Their mouths and arms loom, ominous, threatening, full of warning.

It is official. She is crazy.

Her eyes close for a moment. She had to stay strong. She had stayed strong. She had mentored the girl last year. Sly, clever, quick. She had almost won.

Poor Ciara.

She wasn't even Ciara to the world anymore. She was Foxface. Because Katniss had started calling her that, and everybody loved precious little Katniss. Ciara was forever gone, replaced by a façade that could never show what she was like.

It was like they weren't people anymore.

And Ginna can feel the humanity leaking from her, ebbing away from every pore of her being.

The trees can hear it too. They whisper more urgently, more excitedly.

_Fresh meat._

With the first discernable words from the roar, she is startled and steps backward. A root catches her by surprise.

Ginna feels the slam of the earth on her back; she takes a moment, lying there on the forest floor to recover.

The panic sets in when she realizes she can't get up.

The slender tendrils of the roots have taken their hold on her arms. They draw her down into the ground, twisting tight around her neck.

She gives a shrill shriek. But nobody comes.

Nobody ever comes.

She can hear the whisper of the trees.

_Hush, hush, nobody can hear you. We are the only, the all. Do not deny us. We are watching you. We see everything. There is nowhere to hide, Ginna. We will find you._

_We are the Capitol._


End file.
